The Exclusion of Others

While you look at the hideous
I glance at the beauty

While you listen to advice
I pretend to have wisdom

In the morning you rise
I return home at sunrise

Towards civilisation I advance
Barbarism you preserve to embrace

Scene by scene
Series to series
Gradually we progress

Whether it’s for worse or better
We repeat often our aggression

Of love and compassion you preach
With scorns and scandals I live

The disgraceful to my privacy
And the allegation of your wrong doing
Are the products of our circumstances
And the results of our understandings

In this mortal existence
The exclusion of others
Is the separation
To our own preservations

And the wall of your own welfare
Build to disregard of others
So to nurse your stinginess
And nourish your selfishness

So that today
You could act
To be prudent and sensible
While yesterday
I claimed wisdom
To be on my side

The unknown events to come
The inevitable tomorrow
Await us to repeat mistakes
Eager to challenge
Our common sense and insight
And to judge the result
Of our past learning

The rampart of shame I build
Structure to shield moral outrage
Delineates disgrace and stupidity

Into war I led my son
With prejudice I moisturised him
Of intolerance I narcotised him
To terminate innocent lives
Of someone else’s daughters
And beloved sons

While I stay blind
Surround by the thick wall I structure
Egotistical is all I am
Ignore the fact that I am a looser

And deny the unforgivable preachings
To convince the inexperience
Of hatreds and resentments
Of no good end I become

While you
With your senseless existence
The irrational mind that stupefies you
Block every chance and road
Condemn all opportunities and talents
And guides your daughter to prostitution

You and I are perplexed
In the state of bewilderment and confusion
You are no better than I am
I am no greater than you are

The right and wrong of our conducts
The skills and knowledge we accumulate
Will be use for evidence
To be judge and be weigh
By the highest court
Of ethics and morality

And when we complete our trials
To protect and claim our innocence

Home I will return to
And receive a letter from the battlefield
To inform the return of my dead son
Who will arrive and be bury
In the grave I have long prepare

But until then
With vanity I’ll project my self
Proud and ignorant of my errors
That preaches hatred and prejudice

While yourself
Will be declare a prisoner
To serve and pay your crime

And from the whorehouse
Your daughter will travel
To pay her convict father a visit
And to absolve your sin
For her mercy is greater
Than the fault you have committed